Glossing Poems | Examples

Life's philosophy

A man was born to dignify 
Deserving every piece of respect 
For the fantabulous of intelligences 
For the bright shine of mindsets 

Of the pure and sharp eyesight 
And of the facile and sturdy hands 
Finely handles with delicacies 
While the decency of the manners 
Bestowed its glamourous graces 

Of these evidence for the grades 
Of its freedom and dominance 
To be owned by a respectable man 

No third parties could obstructing 
Nor the contrived defer his shining 
Of its presence as a master of men 
With rights legitimated by nature 
Rather, by artificially made with power 
Into a headless minion of followers 

Harvesting the man-made bumptious 
Though, may success for glossing face 
But deemed meaningless in a man's eyes

Every Tunic’s Tucked

EVERY TUNIC’S TUCKED

squeamish that every tunic’s tucked
on one side, lopsided, uncouth
on the page, in the book - why is
every model told to tuck her hand
inside her pocket, jam her socket
into her pants, plunge me into distress.
If they want us to buy online, can’t
we size it up ourselves. I laugh
like crazy…going crazy…the lazy
love to push buttons and tuck.
well i’m out of luck, looking through
glaring pages, glossing over, needled.

insensitive to my plight? perhaps
you have your own quirk. don’t
laugh behind my back…hit me
on the chin. just don’t tuck your tunic
with your hand in one pocket. i panic
at the unprofessional modelling. i turn
away, i scorn, i feel sick. the lazy
like to set up every one the same.
their camera should be ashamed…
how lame. let me speak…let me shout.

i was kidding about the chin -
keep it to yourself…

Center Heart

There is never a night without stars.
When you’re alone
This is all on a starry night I can gift.
A diamond-like bracelet on brilliant black, miles over
Your wrist.  Or billions of quick stirring lights—
with their dear lovers’ kiss.
Images of other times, shadows in the dust—
Or even the heating of the frozen wax between us.
And the dark shine glossing over your hair—
The reaching out of my hand to find common ground up there.
My love, my imprint 
Some night when you are alone
Is with the spilling over of the stars.

This Too Shall Pass

you can count on time
glossing over the bitterness
of deception



AP: 3rd place 2022

Posted on July 6, 2022

Oceananigans I and Ii

I.

Ode the thrill of a tango
curled in clutches sleek

Elegance, a prerequisite
Add on a spun euphoria

Nimble is a turgid swoon!

Arms conduct to the aria
New skin, feels no tocsin
It's deeply in a you and i
Glazed, to the tightening
and a strangling organza
Necked into a suffocation

So go the tunnel deaths…

(1/27/2021: '02 Silverton MY; Alameda ...contest theme was murder in the tunnel)

II.

Ornately, I gild over my days a’ la fresco
Carefully, I wield molten gold, enigmatic
Elaborate must these life undulations be
as metallic sheen screens all insipid aura
New cantankerous crack? Just weld upon
and smooth the jagged with flowing flora
Now the feckless plaster sparkles golden
I spurn mawkish, like the silvered literati
glossing my craven, to caverns gleaming
Aurum weaves, in its narcissistic miasma 
Nothing malodorous in self-love / loathin’
So imperious my bombastic art, it glazes!

(8.17.21 Redone at Willow Berm and DBW; theme was Craig’s Broken contest relating to Kintsugi)

Basest Traitorous Titan

I fought one piggish Titan and I won
As if that devious Leech existed not; 
Sealing the very firy nose of his gun
With ball-like rags to sap every shot.

A long-lionized mogul of giant name
Slew my low fists by a magic stroke;
Vilest Judas glossing in pesty fame,
I his two-timing fang spookily broke.

I know not if such a scheming villain
Fickle arms dim for want of glut gain,
Ever shall by Time's rare marvel floor,
And ink selfsame serendipities more.

May the Highest Star your ochre clip,
And pelt plagues and fates your ship;
Until Hades her filthiest minion finds 
Sulfurous frying betwixt fallen minds. 

May your fiendish bow of foxy veneer
Snap mid-hunt as looms hugest deer,
And life's fave tooth turn fatal sore;
Your daintiest morsel tartest grow!

You Say, Seeing Is Believing

ALMOST everyone was told, "Seeing is Believing"
BELIEVING is A way to start seeing "If you've seen me, you've seen GOD"
CHRIST may be more UNIVERSAL than one gets by glossing over His Words

Sunny Days

Spiraling, spinning out of control.
Can't you tell that it's taking a toll. 
Stabbing, burning, constant pain.
Sub-par eyes glossing over again.
Today's the day to finally release;
To let go, to slip into glorious peace.
Eyes hazing, head rolling, going to sleep.
Fog thickens, head spinning; won't somebody weep.
Look up as she dies, bright skies turning gray.
No one would save her, goodbye sunny days.

Garnet

O vibrant and rich January
Velvet sweet, warming  the icy vine;
Her crystalline - garnet evening, bright...
Red orioles, whose lilting chorus
The snowflakes, in tinsel greet: And moon
knowing a gown's ONE STONE designs
To adorn the night!...  her Capricorn
Jewel spills depicting vitality on flight,    
Glossing roses on meadows awakened
From Winter's chilled poses. These restless
burst and fragrant sighs make her throttle
In joy-- bold maiden of new dawn's sky



 Brian's Select 3 Contest

Unconscious and Not Breathing

Red, the colour covers my arms
Deep within are glass shards
Show me no mercy and send no regards
Don't stitch me up and cover my scars
Cut my lips, tell them I'm smiling
Every day, I keep on lying
Dishonesty quickly gets very tiring
I'm slowly rotting, slowly expiring

If anybody actually cared
Would I really be pulling my hair?
Would I really be cutting my skin?
Pulling my tendons like puppet strings?
Would my heart really miss him?
As I try to pour out all my sins
If sins were black, all would be darkness
An evil void, lonely and heartless
Choking on sadness and blinded by madness
Isolated vastness, I am feeling anxious
Razors are paintbrushes, skin is my canvas
If it's not depression, then it is malice

Before I lay in my coffin
You see my blood glossing
My eyes water as I see you panic
And my existence slowly vanish
I observe my bleeding wrists
Moving towards the sleeping mist
On bloody notes, I weakly reminisce
Wondering of my needing to exist
My skin is burning but it is not incinerated
My vision is blurry, my mind is intoxicated
My body is hollow, neatly eviscerated
I choke on rose petals, I am suffocating

Gondola

Gliding on moonlit waves
Gold filters through row boat,
Gondola twirls…it’s song
Gently romancing hours .
Guitar plays lovers’ dream,
Gay the breaths of passion
Glossing canoe’s night sail !


Pleiades G : Kim Merryman
12`01`2016
checked at www.howmanysyllables .com
and Webster's dictionary

Porcelain Dolls

We wanted you to be our friend
Demanding favors, wanted you to
Join us

We try so hard to make you dead
Don't worry- pain is kind of pleasure
Child

We're here
That's all we really are
We're broken
You're broken too

Memories
They're all in your head
The past is here to take you back!
Warming memories you lack

Memory has just been rotten
Sweet old times all now forgotten
Mindless scream misunderstanding
Porcelain dolls are still demanding
Can't believe that you're still standing 

Cat, dear child please come closer 
Our soulless eyes are glossing over 
Porcelain skin, cracking quickly
Your tiny frame, trembling meekly
How now, you're looking sickly

Happiness will last forever
We will always be together
Oh dear Cat there is no fear now
You have seen us somewhere, somehow
Guess you broke your final vow


Finally your small mind recalls
Us two red suited porcelain dolls.

Hey Cat, do you remember us yet?


Last lines of each stanza:  Join us. Child. You're broken too. Warming memories you lack. Can't believe that you're still standing. How now, you're looking sickly. Guess you broke your final vow.

Earthy Glow On a Farmland

Sometime, in July's budding charm
when the harvest of earth's clay affirms
that which exposes a content heart,
I remember a glimpse of rare delight 
accepting the slow exposure of one morn
when daylight warms Grandpa’s hands
soaked in earthy glow on his farmland.

A rumbling wind turns amiable,
as bamboo drifts along lush curls
glossing the husk of our fond whispers,
oh, it is as simple as that:
his gaiety becomes an answered prayer
tasting the bliss of simple favors
bestowed by a yield of cornfields
reflecting the thrill of labor harnessed.

In a flash, I watch Gramps' hat flying
like a kite across a wispy sky,
my innocence releases a laughter’s dance
playful and blithe at age seven,
while he, born from fruits of life
ripens still, on his golden year with ease.



Rob Carmack's Golden Days
4/3/2015

First Portrait of Love

Love's dawning in pixels bright
Endeared moment time did spite
Carefree minds with little foresight
Stilled in passion's ephemeral flight
Trendy pastels brimming with delight
Framed in glassy case so erudite
Glowing expressions that innocence did ignite
Now fatuous visages that only illusions highlight
Tender seconds shallow bond did requite
Token portrait skewed in maturity's plight
Colorful shades glossing pubescent rite
Now dulled glaze shadows a deeper insight
Two, burgeoning libidos sharing the 
limelight
Now silted images that concupiscence did blight

Silly Thoughts

Can mirth shadow sorrow,
glossing it to gay heights
where eyes shine in gaiety
and cheeks dimple with grins
or shall they pall and droop
to frowns and wrinkles?

Can tomorrow be today or 
today be yesterday or yesterday be tomorrow?
Can you die before you are born
or be born before conception?
Does it bother you that it bothers me
when you are bothered?

At times I laugh when crying 
and cry when laughing!
It’s a mystery I know,
but then mysteries are what I know
so tell me,
can mirth shadow sorrow
or sorrow mar mirth?

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